


Follow the Breadcrumbs

by Zilentdreamer



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Conversations, Emotions, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27813016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zilentdreamer/pseuds/Zilentdreamer
Summary: “The first hit is always free,” Akira murmured, smiling at the waiter as Akechi politely turned his chuckle into a cough.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68





	Follow the Breadcrumbs

**Author's Note:**

> You all can thank Krycelli for this. I've been bombarded with Shuakeshu for months now and this was written out of pure self-defense.

Akira didn’t notice it at first. 

Akechi had a way of not only drawing attention, but also directing it exactly where he wanted it to be. No doubt from all that time spent in front of the camera and being the ‘Detective Prince’. Being in the public eye for such a prolonged period of time would have been unbearable if he hadn’t possessed the skill to manipulate it. 

His bright grin, subtle and contained. A light laugh where he lifted his hand almost to his lips, not so much covering his mouth as drawing attention to it. The slight tilt of his head that would let his bangs fall across sincere brown eyes. Shifting his weight on the balls of his feet just enough that it could be perceived he was leaning in, as if to share a confidence. 

Akechi was very good at what he did and Akira could admit that the only reason he saw what was going on was because Akechi tended to let his guard down when they spent time together. Akira couldn’t tell if it was on purpose. It could have been just one more of Akechi’s games, or it could have been unconscious. That somewhere in the twisting labyrinth of Akechi’s mind he perceived Akira as something benign. Either way, it gave Akira the chance to see that there was a puzzle in the making, and it was only a matter of time before he started putting the pieces together.

* * *

Akira knew at first glance the cafe in Kichijoji was the kind of establishment he would never have chosen on his own. Understated class that clearly catered to the higher end clientele, people with money to burn on delicate desserts that cost the same amount of a full meal somewhere else. There was something amusing about arriving at such a place on the heels of Akechi, both of them dressed in their school uniforms, an obvious step down for the general atmosphere. Akechi at least made his school uniform work for him, neat and put together. Not like Akira with his tousled hair and the school bag slung over one shoulder. 

Seeing the way the woman manning the front desk didn’t react, Akira couldn’t decide if her careful non-reaction was due to the excellent service or Akechi’s popular presence. The way her eyes flickered over Akechi’s face before turning to grab them a menu to peruse, Akira was leaning more towards the latter. 

His theory was proven correct once they had been seated and their chosen desserts and coffee had been brought out for them, with one extra. Their waiter smiled and gestured to the small plate. “Please accept this with our compliments, gentlemen. An enticement given to first time diners in the hopes that fond memories will bring them back to us.”

“The first hit is always free,” Akira murmured, smiling at the waiter as Akechi politely turned his chuckle into a cough.

“Thank you,” Akechi said. The waiter offered a polite bow, at Akechi, Akira noticed with a slow grin, before retreating at a brisk pace.

“The price of fame,” Akira said with a mournful sigh. “It must be such a struggle for you, Akechi-san. Being expected to entertain only the fabulous and to accept gifts in the hopes of luring you back for excellent ratings. How do you cope with the weight of this kind of responsibility?”

Akechi stared at him for a beat too long and Akira started to consider what he might need to say to correct his mis-step when Akechi started chuckling.

Akira had heard Akechi laugh before, in person and on television. There was a certain brightness to it that encouraged everyone to join in, as if it was the only proper response when Akechi laughed. Something about this low chuckle struck Akira as slightly off. It felt dark, like a rich chocolate that could only be eaten in small bites, something to be savored. 

“I’ve found some aspects of fame are easier to endure than others.” Reaching out Akechi turned the plate to consider the dessert it carried. “Looks to be their version of a pancake. If I remember the menu correctly it should be stuffed with red-bean.”

Akechi’s expression looked less than enthused. “You don’t like red-bean?” Akira said.

“I must admit I am not overly fond of the texture.” Picking up his fork Akechi pulled his original dessert closer. “This is the cake I heard was particularly good. I’m curious to see how it rates against my expectations.” The cake looked to be made from some kind of dark chocolate and piled high with raspberries and cream artfully arranged in a small dome. 

Akira followed suit with his own slice of cake, a confection of chocolate and caramel that was the perfect balance of sweet and savory. The silence that settled between them wasn’t an empty one, filled with the faint scrape of their forks against the white porcelain plates and the muffled noises of appreciation they both made. It felt like the cake was gone after only a few bites and it was a struggle to push the plate away without dragging his finger across it to catch the last few crumbs and smears of chocolate.

“Well? Did it meet your expectations?” Akira said, wrapping his hands around what was left of his coffee. It wasn’t as good as Leblanc’s in his opinion but he figured he was biased. 

Akechi smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I do believe the reviews did it justice. Definitely something I would consider ordering again if I should come back.”

Akira didn’t think he was imagining the slight emphasis on the ‘if’. “Do you prefer sweet to more savory foods then?”

“I’ve found that I don’t generally prefer one over the other. What drew my attention to this cafe in the first place was how far the popularity of this dish had spread. I heard it through several different sources and was intrigued enough to try and taste it for myself.”

“If you had to choose your favorite food to eat what would it be?” Akira grinned behind the rim of his coffee cup. “If you’ve already answered that question in one of your countless interviews I’m afraid I only recently started to pay attention to your appearances on tv.” 

Akira was rewarded with the same chuckle from before, low and throaty. Hearing it a second time led Akira to the impression that it was unpracticed. It was a flattering idea that Akechi allowed himself a few unguarded moments in Akira’s presence. There was no telling if it was true or not. Akechi didn’t generally come across as genuine, at least not from what Akira had seen of him so far. Layers within layers was the impression Akira got, and that feeling only seemed to grow teeth when faced with Akechi in the flesh.

“I don’t believe my favorite food has come up during my various interviews.” Akechi assured him. He reached over and pulled the plate with the red-bean pancake a little closer and forked up a piece. When he took a bite there was the slightest flinch around his eyes, as if fighting to keep his face expression smooth. “Most of the questions I field have to do with my methods of investigation and how I achieved what many think to be an intuitive leap of logic, when in reality the evidence was there all along.”

“Just because the evidence was there doesn’t mean it was easy to find,” Akira pointed out. He watched as Akechi took another bite of the pancake, chewing with none of the clear enjoyment he’d had while eating the slice of chocolate cake from before. “I promise I won’t judge you for being proud of your accomplishments. Not much anyway.”

Akechi had barely finished the red bean pancake and was reaching for his coffee when several fans spotted him and started making a fuss. Akira had offered his glasses mainly in an attempt to tease, but was pleasantly surprised when Akechi allowed himself to be herded out of sight. He insisted on ruffling his own hair and didn’t fight when Akira slipped the glasses on his face. It was a struggle to keep a straight face when the fans immediately abandoned their pursuit of an autograph once confronted with Akechi’s changed appearance.

“I can’t believe I let you do that,” Akechi muttered once they’d been left alone. He slipped off the glasses and held them out, using the other hand to smooth his hair back into place. 

Reaching out, Akira took his glasses back and slipped them back onto his face. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to take a picture. I’m pretty sure I could have gotten a good price for it in certain circles.” Making a square with his fingers as he’d seen Yusuke do when plotting his next painting, Akira made a show of staring through them at Akechi, capturing the ‘moment’ as it were in his mind’s eye. 

Akechi narrowed his eyes before offering up what Akira was going to call his tv smile. “Judging from the reactions of the young women earlier, I can’t say anyone would believe it was me. Apparently peasant chic can only be worn by certain people.”

It was Akira’s turn to laugh and he dropped his fingers. “Ouch. There’s no need to be jealous. Not everyone can make it look as good as I do.”

“That’s true I suppose.” Akechi said. He considered Akira for a moment. “You certainly go out of the way to affect a drab appearance. Although fake glasses are a bit much aren’t they?”

“You’d be surprised how much you can hide behind clear glass.” 

Akechi hummed. “I do believe you’re right.” He offered up another of his tv smiles with the crinkling at the corner of his eyes, lips curving without a hint of teeth. “I suppose I’ve learned something from you today after all.”

“Next time you can return the favor.” Akira got to his feet and hooked his bag over his shoulder. Morgana’s weight inside was a familiar pressure against his back and there was a slight wriggle inside that Akira concealed by shifting his weight. “I need to head back now to have any chance of finishing my homework at a decent hour. We should do this again.”

Getting to his feet as well, Akechi nodded. “Yes, I will admit that I enjoyed your company.”

“That’s a relief. I was really worried there for a moment.” Akira said, keeping his tone obnoxiously bland. Smirking as Akechi walked past him with a small huff trying not to be a laugh, Akira glanced at the table. 

The red bean pancake was gone without so much as a crumb left behind.

* * *

Akira was contemplating what to do with his free afternoon when his phone buzzed with an incoming text. With a flick of his thumb he pulled up the notification and his eyebrows lifted in surprise when he saw he’d received a text from Akechi. It was a request to meet up in Kichijoji outside the billiards club. 

“Does someone want to meet up?” Morgana peered over Akira’s shoulder to get a look at the phone screen. “Huh, Akechi again? Guess he’s taken a shine to you?”

“Looks like it.” Akira scrolled through the last few exchanged texts. There were small comments thrown back and forth between Akechi’s invitations to hang out. “What do you think of him?”

Morgana hummed under his breath, his whiskers tickling the back of Akira’s neck as he fidgeted. Akira noted the looks they received from passersby and stepped further away from the flow of foot traffic. “He’s definitely clever and he’s already made a career of sorts catching criminals. I think we can stand to learn a thing or two from this guy but we’re going to have to be careful about it. We can’t let him know that we are part of the Phantom Thieves.”

Akira reached up to scratch Morgana’s ears since it would look strange if he didn’t, the way the cat was perched on his shoulder and ‘meowing’. “True. I guess it can’t hurt to hang out with him some more.” Not that he would have stopped if Morgana had voiced an objection. Akira was curious about the so-called detective prince and it was obvious that the feeling was mutual, although there was no telling what Akechi saw in him that was worth being curious about. 

He doubted Akechi’s interest hinged entirely on their brief confrontation during the television interview. 

“Better get back into the bag before you draw any more attention,” Akira murmured. Morgana obliged with a soft huff and what felt like an entirely unnecessary dragging of claws against the back of his shoulder. Akira tapped out his response and sent it off with a soft ping. “If you put any holes in my shirt you can kiss the chance of getting any sushi goodbye.”

Akira grinned at the actual hiss he received in return and readjusted the strap as Morgana shifted around to get comfortable once more.

Once they were both settled he headed down into the train station and jumped on the line for Kichijoji. He wasn’t lucky enough to snag a seat and ended up cradling the bag in his arms to keep Morgana from getting crushed in the crowd. A few careful squeezes reminded Morgana to keep his complaints to himself. Pets might be allowed on the train but that didn’t mean it didn’t still draw attention. The less people noticed him the better.

By the time he approached the billiards club, Akechi was already waiting with his phone in hand and tapping away. He looked up before Akira could call out and smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Kurusu, thank you for agreeing to spend time with me. If it’s alright with you I’d like to show you one of my favorite places to relax.”

“I’m always up for relaxing,” Akira said. 

“Excellent, follow me then.” Akechi led them further down the street and then down a small sidestreet that Akira had noticed the last time he’d walked through with Makoto. It hadn’t really caught his eye before and he was reevaluating his previous opinion when Akechi led them to a small business whose front was fashioned with red brick. It looked rough at first but it was obvious with a second glance that the brick was clean and the iron lamp out front was free from rust.

Akira couldn’t resist poking a little fun at Akechi. “Well that doesn’t look ominous at all. Maybe after we’re done here we can find some dark alleys to wander down?”

“Best not to judge by appearances,” Akechi said, sounding more amused than annoyed. “I can promise that while we are here we won’t have the same kind of interruption we suffered previously. I’m a regular here and won’t attract any attention.”

Akira frowned. “So no free food then. I guess I’ll have to settle for your company and whatever this place brings to the table.” The look Akechi slid in his direction indicated that Akira wasn’t as funny as he thought he was. Morgana kept quiet but Akira felt the pressure as the cat swatted at his back through the bag. “Judging from the name I’m assuming this is a jazz club?”

He had an awful thought and took a half step back. “I’m warning you right now that I am an actual hazard on the dance floor. The only time I’ve ever done anything noteworthy I was dreaming at the time so it doesn’t count.”

Akechi stared at him. “I’m not sure what I should focus on first.” He laughed and once again it was the low chuckle that struck Akira as genuine. It probably wasn’t a good thing that it felt like a victory every time he heard it. “I can promise that you won’t have to dance although I’ll admit I am tempted to see what kind of damage you could inflict. We’ll just be enjoying the atmosphere and some performances from some truly talented artists.”

“In that case after you.” Akira followed Akechi down the stairs and was pleasantly surprised by what he found. The cafe itself was surprisingly spacious for all it was still a relatively small establishment. The lights along the edges were dim with a single set of lights hanging over the wooden tables, using shadows and light to create a sense of privacy for each table. The stage took up the entire back half of the room and was fashioned out of wood. It was dominated by a large black piano and various instruments tucked around the edges.

Akechi waved at one of the staff and led Akira to a table right next to the stage, one that was conspicuously empty considering the other tables were full. Once they were seated Akira made a show of looking around. “Well it’s not a free cake, but I suppose a designated table has its merits.”

Akechi didn’t try to correct his assumption, which was somewhat satisfying. “Let’s order some drinks. Are you in the mood for anything?”

A quick glance around showed no sign of a menu. “You haven’t steered me wrong so far. What do you recommend?”

“I can think of just the thing.” Akechi flagged down one of the passing wait-staff and requested the ube cream soda for the both of them. Akira was content to wait quietly as they waited for their drinks and took the time to take in the atmosphere. No one was playing anything yet but it was obvious the stage had been set up for some kind of performance.

Their drinks arrived just as a woman in black stepped up onto the stage. With the black dress her pale face and neck stood out against the shadows behind her, an appealing effect if it was intended. Then she started to sing and Akira was immediately caught up in the woman’s song. The words were soft and seemed to pale in comparison to the music that filled the room. It was the tone she had that arrested his attention and Akira found himself holding his drink, too enraptured with the performance to take a drink. 

He didn’t actually taste his drink until the singer finished her first song and was once again pleasantly surprised by the taste. It was similar to vanilla with an underlying nutty flavor that had him finishing half the drink in a few quick swallows. When he looked over at Akechi, it was to see his satisfied smile as he sipped at his own drink. “I take it you like it,” Akechi said.

“I wouldn’t turn my nose up at a refill,” Akira said. He had to give Akechi credit, the jazz club was a relaxing place to spend time. He would definitely have to bring the others by when he got the chance. He had a feeling Yusuke in particular would enjoy it. “I can see why you like this place so much. You said you’re a regular here?”

“Yes. I stumbled upon it quite by accident if I have to be honest. It was raining at the time and I had left my umbrella at home so I ducked into the first doorway that still had lights on. I’ve been coming back ever since.” Akechi swirled his drink around in his glass, an absent gesture. “I’ve found I can relax here in a way I can’t anywhere else. The atmosphere is particularly appealing, an interesting blend of solitude with company. Have you found a place you prefer over all others?”

“You mean in the two months I’ve been in the city?” Akira took another sip of his drink. “I have actually. It’s a little hole in the wall cafe that sells some of the best coffee and curry I’ve ever tasted. Although saying I found it would be a bit of a stretch since it technically found me.”

“Oh? Well with an explanation like that I can’t help but be curious. In what way?”

Akira explained the situation while editing out a few of the more personal details. It wasn’t anything that Akechi wouldn’t be able to find out for himself if he did a little digging, which he very well might, but it wasn’t something Akira felt like talking about. No sense in ruining the evening when he was enjoying himself. 

By the time Akira was done both of their glasses were empty and forgotten on the table. The singer’s words wove through the dark that lingered at the edge of the light halo above their table. Akechi’s eyes were wide with surprise. “So you’ve been virtually living on your own in a strange city above a cafe. I have to say I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a few dramas start out just like this.” He blinked as if realizing how that must have come across and shook his head. “Not to say that I don’t believe you. It’s simply remarkable the way our lives can twist and turn and where we might end up.”

Akira shrugged with good humor, not having taken Akechi’s comment personally. “I still can’t believe it myself sometimes. The way everything has changed. At least I get some good coffee and curry out of it.”

“Ah yes, I admit I’m a little envious of your circumstances in that regard. I’m quite pleased that I have the ability to live on my own but it does mean I rarely have the time or the will to fix my own meals. More often than not I end up falling directly into bed.” Akechi’s fingers tapped against the table, one making a clear sound as it tapped the base of his empty glass. “Do you eat your meals at the cafe?”

“Yes and no,” Akira admitted. “Sometimes Sojiro will set aside some of the curry from the batch he made for the restaurant for me. If there’s not enough I’ll grab something on the way to or from school. Lately when he’s got the time he’s been showing me how to make curry and brew coffee as well. I think it offends him to have someone under his roof that doesn’t know how.”

Akechi laughed and leaned back in his chair, hands folded neatly in his lap. “Now I think I really am jealous of you. My only experience with learning how to cook has been at school and I’m afraid the smell of my first attempt to cook a fish still haunts me to this day.” He looked away for a moment, appearing contemplative. “I can manage plain rice well enough and can keep an egg from turning to rubber on the stove but I’m afraid that’s the extent of my skills.”

“That’s still something,” Akira pointed out.

“True. Being able to manage that much feels like creating a gourmet meal during my busier moments.” He smiled and something about it felt different to Akira. As if Akechi had taken a step away without moving an inch. “Sometimes the simplest dishes can taste like a feast.”

Then Akechi’s attention seemed to shift back to where they were and he smiled at Akira. “You know I’m glad I decided to invite you here with me. I’ve haven’t brought anyone here before, it was a place I used when I needed to relax.” Akechi shifted one leg over the other as he turned away to face the rest of the establishment, arms almost crossing over his chest as he touched his chin in thought. It was something Akira had seen him do on a few of his television interviews, as if distancing himself from the conversation. “I’m not sure why but I felt like you would enjoy this place, and I wanted to see what you would think.”

“I’m glad you did,” Akira said. “Feel free to invite me back here anytime you feel up for it. But don’t be surprised if you show up to find that I’ve already snagged your table. I’m definitely coming back here with or without you.”

“Then I hope you’ll invite me along next time,” Akechi threw back.

“Sure,” Akira said. He picked up his glass. “Now I don’t know about you but I definitely need another glass of this ube cream soda. And possibly a barrel to carry home with me.”

With a shake of his head Akechi flagged down one of the passing wait-staff. He ordered two more glasses.

* * *

It took him a few rounds with the shooting game to get the hang of it and by the time Akechi called an end to it Akira felt like he’d given a decent showing. Their audience hadn’t tried keeping their voices down so Akira was under no illusions over who had won, but it wasn’t by an especially large margin.

Having caught glimpses of Akechi on the edge of his peripheral vision, Akira had to admit that Akechi certainly did look like he knew what he was doing. After Akechi admitted to wanting to be a hero Akira thought he understood a little better. There was an intensity to everything Akechi did, even when he clearly tried to effect a careless attitude. 

If there was anything he had learned from diving into the Metaverse and fighting side by side with his newfound friends it was learning how to ‘see’ people. Every person had a desire, something they wanted that shaped the core of who they were and influenced every action. He didn’t know what made Palaces but he was beginning to understand what Morgana said when he claimed their desires had been ‘distorted’. Everyone had a core desire that shaped them and when it became twisted or corrupted, they became the kind of people that fed on cruelty and malice, trying to make their distorted wishes reality.

Akechi didn’t have a Palace. Akira had checked after the first couple of times they had hung out. The lack of Palace had been disappointing, if only because he no longer had a firm idea of what it was about Akechi that felt off. Akira was all too aware of the kind of wounds a person could suffer from that didn’t touch the body, and there was something about Akechi that made Akira think he had been hurt badly. Enough that he seemed to feel the need to wear a mask.

Akira had had a lot of time to think about masks and what they represented lately. 

Or he could be reading too much into it. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Picking his bag up from where he’d tucked it away, (he would never have heard the end of it if Morgana got stepped on), he slung it over his shoulder. He nodded at Akechi. “Let me know when you want a rematch. Given enough time I think I can definitely take you.”

Akechi slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, rocking back and forth from his toes to his heels in a slight sway. “I can appreciate that level of confidence. Even if it is misguided.”

“We’ll see won’t we,” Akira said over his shoulder as he walked toward the door. He hesitated at the doors when they whooshed open for him. Akechi hadn’t been joking when he said he’d worked up a sweat while playing. Simply standing still and shooting at pixel targets shouldn’t have been as taxing as it had been, but Akira could feel the sweat on the back of his neck and making his shirt stick to his back. He’d glimpsed a vending machine tucked away in the back of the arcade. It would probably be a good idea to grab something before heading to the train. 

As if summoned by the mere thought of a cold soda or tea, Akira was abruptly desperate for something to drink. Turning around Akira side-stepped several people on their way out, and heard one of them asking their friend if that had been ‘that ace-detective guy, Akechi’ back there.

Akechi really hadn’t been kidding about being harassed by fans. But then again what else did the guy expect if he was going out of his way to stay in the spotlight? Kind of like going outside without an umbrella and then complaining about getting wet. 

When Akira came around the line of arcade consoles that blocked off the other half of the room from view he saw that he wasn’t the only one who had the idea to raid the vending machine for something to drink. Akechi stood there as if perusing the available drinks and it was only when Akira got closer that he saw his hands were clenched into fists. 

“Hey Akechi, you okay?” Akira came up to stand beside him and got a brief glimpse of the look on Akechi’s face before it smoothed away into something strained rather than...whatever it had been before. Akira resisted the impulse to put a hand on Akechi’s shoulder. Reaching out didn’t seem like a good idea right then even if hanging out with Ryuji and Ann had made it his default reaction. 

“It’s funny.” Nothing about Akechi’s expression hinted at humor. “There are times when I feel as if I have the whole world at my feet. I know what I’m capable of and am confident in the skills I’ve cultivated. I have managed to do what many of my peers would never even dream of. And yet no matter how far I climb, I always seem to lose control of the simplest of things.”

Akechi held up his hand to reveal the coins he held. “It’s unbelievably stupid to get angry about not having the right amount of change. And yet I feel like there is a lesson to be learned here.” He sighed and shook his head. “Or maybe I’m just tired.”

“I think you can take this as a sign that you’re not perfect. I’m sure that’s a shock for you considering how amazing you are at everything.” Akira gently hip-checked Akechi out of the way and he pretended not to see the way Akechi’s gaze seemed to slice over him, a little too bright and angry for a moment before it was smoothed away. “But you can look at it as a reason to keep some plebs around. Even if it is only to carry extra change.”

Reaching into his pocket Akira pulled out the leftover change he had from purchasing his lunch and dropped it into Akechi’s hand. He met Akechi’s look with raised eyebrows and waved at the vending machine. “There you go. With our powers combined we can get a drink.”

Judging from Akechi’s expression he was struggling to find some kind of response. Which was immensely satisfying in a way Akira knew was going to spell trouble. He couldn’t seem to help poking at Akechi, trying to see what it took to get past the carefully measured responses. Akechi struck him as someone who was always thinking several moves ahead and it made Akira itch to push him, to see what it looked like when Akechi dropped the facade of the ace detective and just reacted. 

Probably something he shouldn’t do considering he didn’t actually want Akechi poking around in his business. 

Akechi’s smile lacked the typical genial humor he exhibited like a cloak as he shook his head. “You make it sound so simple.” 

“Maybe you just make it more complicated than it has to be.” With both hands shoved in his pockets, Akira gestured with his chin at the bottles displayed behind the plastic window. “Go for the water. The juice options kind of suck and it's a little late for anything with black tea.”

Akechi fed the money into the vending machine and there was an internal clunk as the machine processed the funds and then the buttons for each option lit up a dull red. He reached out and his finger wavered over the water option before he hit the button for the peach juice. 

Akira’s put upon sigh was lost under the sound of the vending machine’s gentle whir as the mechanism inside began to twist as it steadily pushed the bottle to the edge. “For that it would serve you right if the bottle got stuck.” 

The bottle did not get stuck and it was pushed out of its resting place and landed in the tray below with a dull thud. Akechi knelt down and fished it out. Straightening up he offered it to Akira with a smirk. “You don’t like peach flavoring?”

Akira took the bottle and twisted the cap off. The plastic gave way with a sharp crack and he took a couple of long swallows, just enough to ease the dry feeling in the back of his throat. The peach flavoring rested thick and sugary on his tongue. Didn’t taste all that natural in spite of what the label proclaimed. “My go to juice flavor is usually strawberry or mango. Peach never seems to taste right to me.”

He offered the bottle back and once again there was something about Akechi’s expression that struck him as slightly off. His eyes looked almost flat, lacking the bright interest he usually carried. They lingered on his mouth and then flicked down to the bottle Akira held out to him. Akechi stared long enough for Akira to wonder if he wasn’t going to take the bottle back when he finally did. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Akechi said. He paused for the barest moment before unscrewing the cap and taking a drink himself. “Mmm, definitely much better than water.”

Akira laughed and headed towards the door. Morgana had been patient so far but he was beginning to poke at Akira’s back through the bag. “Now I’m really out of here. I’ll see you around Akechi.”

The heavy feeling of Akechi’s gaze seemed to linger long after he’d made it back to Leblanc.

* * *

Stepping out of the humid bathhouse into the crisp night air felt a little like being underwater and breaking the surface for that first gasp of air. The cold rushed in to brush against all the warm skin it could reach and Akira couldn’t quite stifle a shudder. That first step was always the worst and not for the last time he lamented not having a personal bath that would let him avoid having to step outside.

At his side Akechi shuddered as well. “Goodness that is cold. I feel like all the good that bath did was lost the moment we had to step outside.”

“Let’s head back to the cafe. Standing outside with our hair wet isn’t going to help matters.” Akira started walking only to stop when he realized that Akechi hadn’t moved. When he turned back Akechi was sliding his gloves on. 

“Since it’s getting late I should probably head back now. I would hate to impose on you any further.”

Akira’s breath lingered in the air as he breathed out and the chill was starting to sink its teeth into him. He took in the way Akechi was already shivering even with his jacket on and the careful way he wasn’t looking back as he took his time putting his gloves on. 

Maybe it was because of what Akechi had told him in the bath house, the careful and concise way he had explained his upbringing as if to get the point across and still manage to say as little as possible. Yet it let Akira see the puzzle that he’d been steadily putting together, collecting each piece without quite realizing what the whole picture would look like. 

A life of abuse and neglect that far outstripped his own. At least he’d had parents to support him even if they hadn’t put much effort into it, had more often than not preferred to have him out of sight and out of mind entirely. 

There was something about the way that Akechi had told him as well that made Akira feel... protective. He didn’t think Akechi felt compelled to tell him, not with everything he’d seen the past few months as they spent time with each other here and there. Someone who spent so much effort controlling their every action wouldn’t spill their guts due to spontaneity. Akechi had deliberately stepped outside every barrier he’d constructed and Akira wasn’t quite sure what had inspired it, but he didn’t want to act as if nothing had happened.

He knew he was being manipulated. It was part and parcel of the way Akechi operated. There would be no point in exposing a raw nerve the way he had unless it served a purpose, Akira just wasn’t sure what Akechi was aiming for. All he knew right then was that he didn’t want to send Akechi home to an empty apartment without some kind of reciprocity. If that meant he was playing into whatever the detective wanted then so be it. He would deal with what came next as best he could.

“You aren’t imposing,” Akira said. “I don’t keep hanging out with you because it’s a chore, Akechi. I do genuinely like your company.”

Akechi’s smile looked a little baffled. As if he weren’t quite sure how he should respond. “Thank you, Akira. I’m glad to hear that.”

Akira shoved both hands into his pockets, because it was cold and to control the urge to fidget. He wasn’t great at expressing himself and what he was planning on doing was already leaving him with a sick feeling of exposure. And he hadn’t even said anything yet which did not bode well for his success. He focused on the thought that if Akechi could do it, so could he. 

“Do you have anything at home to eat right now?” Akira asked. “I know you mentioned before that you aren’t that great at cooking and kind of eat what you can get. I’m planning on heading back to the cafe and making some fresh curry for dinner.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how to make it for only one person so you would be doing me a favor if you helped me eat it.”

“Oh, I would be doing you a favor?”

Akira just blinked at him. “I would definitely owe you one.”

The smile from before slipped off Akechi’s face, replaced with something remote. Not his ‘interview face’ with its cheerful smile and the brief curve of a grin, or even the somber expression Akira had seen from time to time when Akechi was reflecting on something important. The way Akechi was staring at Akira now was intent, something sharp in his eyes and the way he stood that made Akira wait for a response rather than keep trying to convince him. Akechi wasn’t really much for being persuaded. Showing him the options was the best Akira could do. 

“You can say no,” Akira said, gently. 

Anger flared in Akechi’s expression before he huffed out a raw sounding laugh and rubbed at his face. “I don’t understand you,” he said, sounding lost and annoyed about it. “However, I suppose I could eat some curry right now.”

They walked back together and Akira let out a quiet breath of relief. For a moment he had thought Akechi was going to turn around and disappear back out into the streets. He got the impression it wouldn’t take much for Akechi to decide spending his quiet hours with Akira was a waste of his time and move on to other pursuits. What had started out as a source of curiosity on Akira’s part had grown teeth and latched onto him when he wasn’t looking. Now he knew he would miss the sly humor the detective let slip into their conversations, not to mention the look on his face when Akira managed to say something that took him off guard.

Yeah he was in trouble. Morgana was going to let him have it once he realized Akira had deliberately invited Akechi back to the cafe for a late dinner.

A glance through the glass door revealed the lights were off. Sojiro must have cleaned up on his own and left the rest to Akira for when he got back. Reaching out he grabbed the door handle and swung it open, taking a step back. He waved Akechi in with a little head tilt. “After you.”

“I don’t think chivalry has any real place here.” Akechi said. He walked past Akira but not fast enough to conceal the way he rolled his eyes. 

“I call it having manners.” The door closed behind Akira with the faint chime of the bell. Taking a moment to wipe away the slush of dirt and melting ice still clinging to his shoes on the mat, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over one of the counter chairs as he passed by. He plucked his apron off its hook and slid the loop over his head before tying it in a loose knot in the back. Sojiro had tried to teach him how to tie it into a bow but Akira couldn’t seem to make it work with any reliability so a loose knot it was. 

Before heading over to the baths with Akechi, Sojiro had confirmed there were enough leftover ingredients to make curry so he went immediately to the refrigerator and started pulling everything out. He hesitated for a moment when he saw the apples but ended up grabbing one. He had set out the cutting board and was about to start slicing up the onion when he stopped.

Akira glanced over his shoulder. “Akechi, do you want to help?”

Akechi had taken a seat at the bar and had been watching him in silence. His jacket was neatly folded over the back of his chair and at one point he’d taken his gloves off as well. They were a stark black against the polished wood shine of the counter, making his pale hands with their entwined fingers seem soft and vulnerable in comparison. 

“I think I do.” Akechi’s trademark smile was gone as he got to his feet and came around the counter. He glanced around as if taking in the changed perspective of the rest of the cafe from his new position before standing next to Akira. “What do you need me to do?”

“Here.” Picking up the cutting board, Akira moved it over to the small table next to the stove. Sojiro had admitted to bringing it in to gain a little extra counter space since curry generally needed a wide range of ingredients to be prepped. “Do you want me to show you how to cut an onion?”

Akechi set one hand on the onion to hold it steady and picked up the knife. “I have done this before so I think I can manage.”

“If you're sure. Try to keep the tears to a minimum if you can. I don’t know if I’ll be able to contain my fangirl enthusiasm if you cry.” Smirking at the look Akechi leveled at him, Akira snagged the rest of the vegetables and set them on the edge of the table so Akechi could start on those as well once he finished with the onion. After setting out several bowls to dump each ingredient in once he was done, Akira got started on cutting up the chicken. 

He’d just finished seasoning the pieces and was gathering up the ingredients he’d need to make the roux when Akechi finished the onion and saw what else he needed to cut up. “You’re adding an apple to the curry?” 

“Don’t worry, you’ll like it. I need you to grate rather than cut it though” Akira glanced over his shoulder to see Akechi watching him askance, the apple held in one hand. “Don’t you trust me?”

The look that flitted across Akechi’s face assured Akira’s belief that he needed to do something to show appreciation for the show of trust Akechi had given him at the bathhouse. It also deserved some reciprocity, if Akira could find the words. 

He was still mulling it over by the time the chicken and the rest of the vegetables, the apple included, were simmering on the stove. When he added the flour and spices to the melted butter in the pan for the roux he said, “I don’t think my parents actually wanted to have a child. My earliest memories of them are of long absences and a long line of caretakers that came and went. That ended when I was about ten. I think they decided I was old enough to take care of myself by then.” Once the flour had absorbed the butter he added the tomato paste and sauce with a little bit of honey. “They both left for a business trip and I was left on my own. There wasn’t much to eat since they tended to eat while at work so I had to get creative. When what was left ran out I was able to do some odd jobs for the neighbors to earn money and buy more.”

Akira could feel the stillness next to him but he didn’t look at Akechi. Instead he stared at the pan and kept stirring and mixing until all the ingredients were mixed together and the sauce was done. “I was relatively used to going hungry by that point but those three weeks were particularly memorable. Even now I can still remember how empty my stomach felt and how when I finally got to eat something my stomach would just feel worse.”

With the roux done he lifted the pan off the heat and set it to the side. He stared at the simmering chicken and vegetables, determined to get it all out as quickly and concisely as Akechi had done. Even though he wanted to snarl it out between gritted teeth. The anger was pointless since it never changed anything. “My parents don’t hate me. They would have to think about me to hate me, and more often than not they don’t think about me at all. So I try to do the same and think about them as little as possible.” 

When Akira looked at Akechi it was to see him standing still, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. It was the most unguarded Akira had ever seen him, and he wasn’t sure what to think about the cause considering what he’d just finished sharing. “Why are you telling me this?” Akechi asked, voice soft as if speaking any louder would shatter what had been building between them with Akira’s confession.

Akira thought about it for a moment, half of his attention on the simmering vegetables. “I’m not completely sure. But I know you’re dealing with something big.” He slid a wry glance at Akechi. “I got the impression you aren’t the type to share something so personal to you without a reason, which is fine. We all have a reason for doing what we do. But I guess I wanted to share something in return. Consider this my attempt to even the playing field.” 

Akechi’s hands were balled into fists and Akira wondered if maybe he’d made a huge mistake after all. He had long enough to feel his stomach start to twist with a feeling of sick regret when Akechi let out a huff and pressed his hand to his face. “I thought I was competitive. But now I think I could learn from you, Kurusu.”

Akira started to slowly ladle the roux into the simmering stock. He wasn’t sure if he’d managed to avoid whatever explosion Akechi had been gearing toward and still felt a little unsteady. It was easy to fall back on his typical response when uncomfortable, or generally feeling any kind of emotion if he was going to be honest. “I’m always willing to teach you a lesson, Akechi.” Sarcasm worked for him. “I’m not going to ask what is going on with you. I know you won’t tell me. But I just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone.”

Akechi went back to looking blank-faced and Akira decided to step back while he still could. He’d gotten his point across, hopefully, and now was the time for some warm and filling curry. He dished out the rice and ladled curry over both plates before carrying them to the counter. The only sound in the cafe was the scrape of their forks over the plates as they ate and Akira was largely okay with that. He’d said some heavy things and felt a little exposed as a result. The curry helped to soothe the nerves that still jumped around in his belly and seeing Akechi steadily work his way through the plate was satisfying as well. 

By the time they’d cleared their plates it was late. When Akechi made to carry his plate back into the kitchen Akira waved him away. “I’ve got it. You need to leave now if you’re going to catch the last train.”

Akechi nodded and collected his jacket and gloves, sliding them on with brisk efficiency. He opened his mouth and then hesitated and Akira eyed him for a moment. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said. 

“I do.” Akechi said. “I enjoy the time we spend together. I feel like you see me as Goro Akechi, instead of the Detective Prince. It’s refreshing and I don’t quite know what to make of it.”

Akira struggled with what to say and decided to go with honesty since it seemed to be effective so far. “Do you have to make something of it? Why not just take advantage of it?” He paused and then decided it really was too much of an opportunity to pass up. “Although if you did want to show some appreciation I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to fork over your gloves if you have an extra pair? Do you have any idea how much I could sell them for if I listed them as yours?” Akira couldn’t contain a laugh at the startled look that flashed across Akechi’s face.

“Well now I’m questioning my taste in companions,” Akechi said, trying and failing to look long-suffering. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth was a bit of a giveaway. He considered Akira in a thoughtful way that seemed to hold weight all of a sudden, enough to make Akira’s amusement fade. “I suppose it really is that simple isn’t it?”

“I think it is.” Akira said.

Akechi nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right.” He smiled suddenly and it was a strange blend of his trademark Detective Prince smile and something sharper that seemed more at home in the curve of his mouth. “You’ve definitely given me food for thought, Kurusu. Until next time.”

The bell chimed as Akechi stepped out into the cold and Akira was left with the dirty dishes and the hope that the next time he saw Akechi, the sharp smile would still be there.


End file.
